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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082798">deadly threads [HIATUS]</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese'>goodwineandcheese</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Monster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Bodyguard Romance, Gen, Slow Burn, spies au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johan Liebert, aged twenty, died on the operating table that day. But he left behind <em>something</em> - a thing that seems to have a great deal of value to a great deal of people. When Tenma saves the life of a mysterious amnesiac, each of these threads begins to converge on the doctor, so tangled in their web. Pray he keep a cool head lest he lose it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wolfgang Grimmer/Tenma Kenzou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>deadly threads [HIATUS]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wahoo time for a spy AU! This story only very loosely borrows from canon but it's mostly its own thing. The context won't be entirely clear right away, but that's intentional, as details will be revealed as we go. While this fic is probably going to be fairly tame relative to others, there will definitely be some pretty intense violence and action scenes, par for the course where spies are concerned.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rubber screeched as Tenma hit the brakes hard.</p><p>It was late, dark, and rainy; the shoddy visibility alone made for poor driving conditions, so when a man stumbled out of a nearby alley and onto the road, Tenma had been lucky that he was able to stop in time. Even luckier that his sidelong swerve didn’t drive him straight into traffic or into a ditch. He pulled over, stepping out into the rain without much care as he was bombarded by pelting droplets. The man was face-down on the ground, probably passed out. It was likely he was just a drunk, but Tenma couldn’t just leave him there. He made his way toward the fallen figure, shielding his eyes as he crouched down, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder gently to turn him over.</p><p>It was only now that he was much closer, crouched right beside the man, that Tenma realized something was wrong.</p><p>The rain was doing a good job of washing it away, but he could see traces of red where the man had fallen. With a little more haste, Tenma rolled the man onto his back, taking note of how thoroughly soaked his shirt was, the red stains on his hands, his arms. The side of his head was covered in blood, though a quick assessment saw no more than a mild gash along his left temple. It wasn’t a deep wound, but by the deep purple bruising, it seemed likely it was some sort of blunt trauma. It was no wonder he’d been stumbling; that sort of injury would hinder his cognitive ability on its own, but combined with the rest he’d sustained…</p><p>Tenma shot a wary glance back toward the alley. He didn’t see anything, but that wasn’t a sign they were alone. It just meant whoever attacked this man was good at hiding. By the brutality of the man’s state, he could only assume they meant to kill him. This wasn’t some mugging; people were really after this man’s life. </p><p>There wasn’t time to give him a proper assessment right now - not if someone was waiting in the alleyway, potentially multiple someones, with murderous intent. He could take him to the clinic, but that could take a while - and at this hour, there were probably patrols keeping an eye out. Tenma had nearly blown his cover once already; he couldn’t risk it again so soon. He was going to have to be careful - especially with the man in this condition.</p><p>Carefully, Tenma shifted the tall figure so that he was a little more easily moved. Getting him into the car was going to be difficult without help, but he couldn’t very well call Becker right now, and Heckel...if he was awake, there was a good chance his sobriety had long since left him. </p><p>Hoisting the man slowly into a sitting position, Tenma put an arm around his shoulders. Normally he didn’t like moving his patients like this; it was easier to worsen injuries, but there simply wasn’t any way he could lift the man to carry him. He hoisted the man to his feet, using his own body as a balance to keep him upright. The rain beat down on them relentlessly as Tenma made a slow hobble toward the car, doing his best not to injure the man any further.</p><p>He lowered the rear seats, making it a little easier to deposit his charge into the back of the vehicle with only minimal difficulty. Tenma gave him another quick look over, making sure there was no immediate emergency, nothing that required swift attention. He had bled a lot, but not enough for it to be a concern, and it seemed to have stopped for now. It was a short drive back to where Tenma was staying. He’d see to the man there.</p>
<hr/><p>No questions were asked when he heaved a very definitely unconscious man through the doors of the hotel. No doubt it was expected that this was just another job, someone else he had to fix. Heckel had been the one to work out the details of his arrangement; the hotel staff sheltered him, and he was able to operate as a back-alley doctor as long as the share was split with the hotel owner. If there were any questions, they turned a blind eye for his sake and right now he was glad of that.</p><p>He lay his soaking wet companion down on the sofa, using one of the pillows to support his legs. He barely fit across the damn thing, he had to be over six feet tall. </p><p>Tenma worked at the buttons of his jacket, realizing a bit too late that it might have been easier to take his jacket off <em>before</em> laying him down. Right now he was stuck trying to pull his arms loose from heavy wet fabric that wanted nothing more than to stick to its owner. But, after a bit of wrestling he was able to peel the black jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground with a heavy thud.</p><p>Removing his undershirt was markedly easier. It still clung to him, but the material was a lot thinner, a lot easier to lift away from him. But underneath…</p><p>To the eyes of a seasoned doctor who had known far worse injuries, it wasn’t anything to draw a fearful gasp or a startle. But the scars, old and new, certainly told a story. This was a person who regularly found himself in scraps. And by the blood dried on his knuckles and under his fingernails, it seemed he himself was rather vicious in a fight. It raised troubling questions; was this man the aggressor, or acting in self defense? If it was the former, he had invited someone potentially volatile into the hotel.</p><p>Even so, he was a doctor. The people he treated were just as often thugs and degenerates in their own right; he, as a doctor, was obliged to save lives regardless of perceived wrongdoings. An attitude that had ruined his career, but he wouldn’t have acted any differently even if he had the chance to do it again.</p><p>His patient’s injuries were localized mostly on his face and chest. That injury to his temple was by far the most troubling; it certainly bled the most, and it wasn’t the sort of injury that came from a scuffle. The gash was long and jagged, like his face had been dragged across something sharp. There had been fragments of glass in the rain; Tenma could make at least a few guesses as to what might have happened.</p><p>Purple bruising around his eye, his lower jaw, and even darker bruising along his chest indicated a fairly intense fight, or a fall, or both. Tenma was quick to assess the damage, gently pressing just his fingertips to the man’s chest, applying very light pressure. He listened to the man’s breathing, moving his fingers just a little further up. There was a sharp exhalation and a wheeze. Then again, a little further. He had at least three fractured ribs. </p><p>There were no puncture wounds, which at least he was glad to see. The last thing he needed was to deal with a bloody knife wound in his hotel room. </p><p>It was when he went to examine the man’s arm for breakage that he noted bits of glass stuck into his forearms. Between that and his forehead, the heavy bruising and broken bones...it was possible he’d come down through a window somewhere. Used his arms to take the brunt of the glass. And...what, stumbled all the way through the alley into the road?</p><p>Tenma shook his head, looking down at his patient and taking a few steps back.</p><p>“I was hoping to get a few hours of sleep tonight, but I suppose that’s not going to happen now. I brought you here, so I’m going to have to take responsibility for that.”</p><p>Tenma crouched down, picking up the discarded shirt and jacket, moving to set them aside where they wouldn’t be in the way.</p><p>He paused, though, when something fell from the breast pocket of the man’s jacket, landing face-down on the carpeted floor.</p><p>It wasn’t his, and so Tenma knew inherently he shouldn’t look. But he was also curious, and that part of him was the one that won. Besides, this person probably wanted his belongings kept together. And so, he picked up the small rectangle of folded and creased paper. It was of a thicker stock, so it had survived the rain despite being just a little damp. The writing on the back hadn’t, though; whatever was scrawled there was difficult to read, though the handwriting itself was barely coherent to begin with. Tenma unfolded it, then unfolded it a second time.</p><p>Then, he stared. Blinked three times. Looked between his unconscious patient and the photograph he now held.</p><p>Tenma took a deep breath, lowering his hand down to his side. He looked over his tall, unassuming, bloodied patient one more time.</p><p>“It’s going to be very interesting when you wake up.”</p><p>Clutched carefully between his fingers was a photograph of one Kenzo Tenma.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mostly exposition but clearly this tall fellow who we definitely do not know the identity of has something to hide. Wonder what's up man.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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